


Fallen: Completely and Hopelessly

by Anonymous



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Beautiful Golden Fools, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:00:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22634737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Seeking you out!
Relationships: Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26
Collections: Anonymous





	Fallen: Completely and Hopelessly

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KaffeineJunkie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaffeineJunkie/gifts).



They are married but no paper bears witness or proof, not anymore. They had to burn it, and then he drew his fingertip through the ashes, as though it could be so easy.

They are married and Jaime cannot be with Cersei, because it would put their life in danger. Because she is a bargaining chip for father. Because it is foolish and _stupid_ and the way he loves her is reckless and it leaves him vulnerable.

It’s everything. It’s the kind of love that spans fields choked with dead, bloodshed and poetry and still silver moonlight. She is all he has left and she comes to him like a sleepwalker, drunk and enthralled, heedless of what might be done to them if anyone finds out. Sometimes he just clings to her in the dark and his heart rises until it chokes him and he catalogues it all, all the ways they could bloody and bruise and break her in an effort to break _him_ , and yet, and yet.

He would be the golden boy. He would be perfect, save for her.

He is broken without her.

He memorizes the signs and countersigns; he makes the brush passes and every rendezvous and they meet in safe houses, in shabby hotel rooms, in remote cabins. She picks him up in bars. Once, he locked eyes with her on a streetcorner, leaning across to open the passenger door, gazing at her, fingers curled in welcome. They never wear their wedding bands long enough for that strip of skin at the base of their fingers to ever turn.

But those are the only times he is alive.

They don’t fight, except when the last seconds are draining away and they are both clawing for the last dregs. They stroll in parks, faces averted; they eat in kitchens, standing up, fingers stained with sauce, and they never, _never_ have enough time.

The nights, the slow mornings they spend wrapped around each other, as though contact will make the hurt less when it only seems to do the opposite. His skin crawls when it isn’t in contact with hers. He grows restless when they go weeks without seeing each other, as though he is slowly losing his orbit, slowly losing grip of this lie, the next lie, the next.

One day there will be a name and it will be the last. One day there will be another business acquisition, another merger, another bitter crime scene, another weighted coffin lowered into the ground, another legend.

One day he will slide her ring onto her finger again and it will never, never come off.

Until then, he looks up at the stars and thinks that at least they can touch her even when he can’t. He sleeps with a heavy heart, his rest so brittle it breaks with the scrape of a tree branch against a window, leaving him jittery and half-crazed, and his waking life is a dream that will soon evaporate.

Until her. Until the day he walks away from all this and into the arms of the woman he loves.

Nothing else matters, only _Cersei_.


End file.
